by Kristie Cook
Crouched over a trashcan, feeding balls of newspaper into a fire that blazed in the bin, was a man wearing black pants and a sweater. His long, brown hair was pulled into a low ponytail, and his chiseled face reflected the shadows and light of the flames. Thick, straight brows, one with a scar through it, pulled low over his dark eyes. Noah—Mom’s twin, my uncle, and a Summoned son who was part of the Daemoni. With him, sitting on a stained, bare mattress on the floor with litter scattered around his feet, was a younger looking man, a teenager, with dark blond hair and hazel eyes full of determination. My son.
I gasped and sprang to my feet. “Oh my God! He’s alive? On Earth?”
Satan hissed at my choice of words.
“For now,” he answered, sounding annoyed. But … he answered. When Mom and Rina never would.
I ran to the window and pressed my hands and forehead against it as I stared at my son, new emotions welling within me. He still had on the same jeans and blue sweater he’d worn the last time I saw him. They appeared to have shrunk three sizes, though, showing how much he’d grown since the day I’d said “see you later” at the gates to the campus and he’d told me, “not if I see you first.” I’d thought it a joke then. How had I not known?
“Dorian,” I called out to him, but, being on the other side of the veil, he couldn’t hear or see me.
When he spoke to Noah, though, his words came clearly across the veil. “Kali said I was the key to breaking the curse on you and the others.”
My jaw slackened, and my fingers curled against the glass. “What?”
Satan snickered behind me.
Noah looked up from the fire that caused light and shadows to dance on his face. “I’ve heard that, too, and she would know.”
“So she was telling the truth that if I offer myself to the Daemoni, my parents and baby sister will be okay?”
Those new feelings—a flicker of hope—turned upside down, and my heart sank. Was this the lie he’d been told? Was this why he’d left us? “No, Dorian. Don’t you do it!”
“My understanding is that you must be offering yourself as a sacrifice.” Noah dropped down to sit on the floor. He crossed his long legs at the ankles and rested his forearms on his bent knees. “The rest of us went willingly to the Daemoni. They offered us power, wealth, everything we could possibly want, everything the Amadis could not. Any power went to our sisters. We were wanted by the Daemoni. Not so much by the Amadis. The decision was simple. But that cannot be the decision for you, if you want to break the curse.”
Dorian gnawed on his bottom lip. “My mother and father love me. I love them. I don’t want to do this, but I think I have to.”
“No, you don’t, Dorian!” I banged on the window, but in vain.
“A sacrifice might break the curse, but there’s no guarantee it will save your family or anyone else.”
“If I do break it and you’re freed, though, you will go fight for them?”
Noah nodded. “I will. But I might be the only one.”
Dorian’s eyes darkened. “Even after what Kali and my grandfather did to the others?”
Noah didn’t reply at first, his own eyes storming, probably at the memory of what he’d been through when Lucas and the sorcerers controlled him. “I do not know. Some, such as Edmund, have already given their souls over, so it is too late for them.”
“But the rest?”
“There’s a possibility they will convert and fight for your mother.”
Dorian leaned his elbow on his knee and dropped his chin into his hand as he gazed at the fire. The reflection of the flames danced in his eyes, looking so much like the eyes of his father at one time.
“Then I have to at least try,” he said. “I don’t want my baby sister to be a part of this war.”
“NO! Dorian, no!” I screamed, banging harder on the window with both fists until the glass broke and cut through my palms and wrists.
I prepared to dive through, but the scene had disappeared, the window displaying a black wall beyond it. The draperies closed on their own, and I spun around, still shaking my fists. Blood droplets splattered on the thick carpet. How could I even bleed, or hurt in this place, for that matter?
“Oh, I ensure you feel physical pain, just as if your body were here,” Satan replied to my silent question. “What fun would it be if you didn’t? Emotional and mental pain is the best, but the physical just adds an extra dimension, so to speak.” He held his hand out to the settee I’d been sitting on before he’d opened the view to the Earthly realm. “Sit down, won’t you?”
I refused, standing there with my fists on my hips, blood still dripping on his luxury grade carpet. His finger jumped, and the bleeding stopped and the stains disappeared. I didn’t acknowledge him.
“This is Dorian’s purpose, don’t you know?” Satan asked, and I only responded by glaring at him harder, my chest rising as I heaved for breath. “They would never tell you that, of course, but his purpose has always been to break the curse.”
The breath flew out of me as though I’d been sucker-punched. Why had nobody ever told me that? Mom, Rina, Cassandra … the blasted Angels? They’d kept this critical piece of information to themselves! He was my son, and they couldn’t have told me this?
“Ah.” Satan sighed. “I love the hatred and anger burning in you. Delightful.”
I pulled back, quickly reigning in my emotions before he whipped his ugly penis out again.
He frowned, and then swished his wrist in the air. “Yes, that’s what they want him to do. Something about helping you win the war and save your daughter … blah blah blah. As if you could beat me.”
“I lost the baby, though,” I said, ignoring the taunts. “There is no sister to save. He’s doing it for nothing!”
“True. My girl Jeana took care of that little nuisance.” Satan puffed on his cigar, his blue eyes seemingly thoughtful. “Too bad, isn’t it? No daughters left on Earth means no reason for the Amadis to fight. Look how they’ve already given up.”
He flicked his hand in the air again, and the draperies reopened, showing another scene. This one outside with a snowy landscape—the entrance to Hades. Lucas stood in front of a large crowd, all of them on one knee with their heads bowed. I identified Chandra by her shiny black hair and spotted the eccentric hat and clothing Minh always wore. They’d sat on my council. On Rina’s, too! And she’d tried to make me believe there was any hope left? I shook my head with incredulity as I recognized other faces in the crowd. In fact, I knew, all of them were Amadis. Were being the key word. They bowed before Lucas now. My heart shrunk to the size of a pea.
The draperies closed.
Satan tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. “So, I wonder, if there’s nobody left to fight for or with, and there’s no reason for Dorian to sacrifice himself, is he actually breaking the curse? Or is he simply coming to my side like every other brother—because it’s the right side?”
I stared at the thick and heavy blue curtains as I pondered this question that sounded too much like a riddle. But the answer was not a joke or play on words. I dropped onto the settee, emotions coiling and slithering in my stomach like snakes. The draperies parted again, returning to the apartment with Noah and Dorian. My son stood at the door, wearing better fitting clothes now—how much time had passed?—and looking over his shoulder at Noah.
“I’ll free you, Uncle Noah, and whoever else wants it. Just please, be there when my mom needs you.” Dorian walked out the door, shutting it behind him, and a whimper sounded in my throat.
“Oh, look. I win!” Satan clapped his hands together and gave me an evil grin.
“No.” I shook my head violently. “That hasn’t happened yet, right?” The drapes closed again, and my gaze flew to the pretty face. “Right?”
Satan pondered me, taking his time, and I was about to lunge at him when he shrugged. “Does it matter? Accept it for what it is, Alexis. The end. Dorian hasn’t given his soul over yet, but he will. So will you? Whe
re are you going to put your faith? With the winners or the losers? Them, who have done nothing but lie and keep secrets from you, denying you your family? Or me, who offers you everything, including your son? And your husband, too.”
My mind had been focused on the word yet—Dorian hadn’t given his soul over yet—and wondering how I could stop him before he did. But the mention of Tristan snapped me out of it.
“I said to keep him out of this,” I growled.
“He apparently doesn’t want to be left out.” Satan waved his cigar in my direction, but his gaze focused on some point beyond me. “Look who we have here. Welcome home, my son.”
I sensed the new presence immediately, and when I looked over my shoulder, my heart rocketed into my throat. The most stunning face I’d ever known—far more attractive than Lucifer’s, who had supposedly been the most beautiful Angel before he’d fallen—strode across the room, his legs clad in fighting leathers, but his shirt gone, leaving his muscular torso bare. His stomach muscles rippled as he moved toward me with a spark in his hazel eyes. Seated in the center of sin, I shouldn’t have been so surprised at how quickly lust consumed me.
“Tristan!” I jumped to my feet and rushed to him, not believing he was really here, when I’d thought I’d never see him again. He wrapped me into his powerful arms. My body ached for his touch, but my brain quickly caught up and took over. “No. Oh, no. You can’t be here. What are you doing here?”
“I follow you anywhere, even into the dark,” he murmured against my ear. “I go where you go.”
“No.” I pushed him away. “You fought so hard not to be here.”
“Maybe not hard enough?” Satan jeered from behind me.
I ignored him, knowing that wasn’t true, and grabbed Tristan’s face in my hands to look him in the eye.
“You can’t be here. You don’t deserve to be here. You don’t belong here.”
He pressed his lips to my forehead. Pleasure shot down between my legs, making me instantly ready for him. “Alexis, my love, I belong wherever you are.”
My heart melted, and so did my knees while my breasts tightened with need. When his lips made it down to my mouth, my whole body tensed and throbbed.
“Why don’t you two just fuck already?” Satan asked. “I’d be happy to watch.”
Tristan and I both let out a low growl. I gave the lustful feelings a hard shove and returned to my senses.
“You do not belong here,” I insisted. “Not in Hell.”
“Neither do you, my love.”
“Yes, I do. I’ve been sent here.”
The sound of a clearing throat came from behind me.
“That’s not … entirely true.” Satan’s words came out sounding like a mix between a guilty admission and pride for his deceit.
I peered over my shoulder at him with narrowed eyes. “What is that supposed to mean?”
He twirled his long fingers in a dismissive gesture. “It’s called war, Alexis. You told the Angels you didn’t belong in Heaven, and they agreed. You were probably supposed to go back to Earth, but since you seemed a little open to the idea that this was your fate, my Demon seized the opportunity and brought you to me. Technically, you really don’t belong here. But unlike them, I take any and all who want to join me. All you have to do is say the word. Give me your soul, and the world is your oyster. You can have everything. The offer stands to both of you.”
I looked up at Tristan, anger and confusion churning within me, and he gazed down with a determined love. “Like I said, I go where you go.”
My jaw clenched, and my nostrils flared. “You will not rot in Hell because of me.”
“I prefer that you don’t, as well.”
“Then let’s get out of here.”
Satan blew out a growly huff. “So be it.”
And with a snap of his fingers, the luxurious room disappeared, immersing us in the cold black of Hell’s deepest pit.
Chapter 3
“I was hoping we could reach an agreement and it wouldn’t come to this.” Satan sighed. “But you leave me no choice. Like I said, if you wanted mercy, you should have stayed in Heaven.”
His debonair human form disappeared, and the repugnant beast returned. His red, horned head fell back, and he opened his mouth as if to scream, but fire blasted out. As though that had been a summoning call, dozens of Demons appeared, similar in appearance to Satan, but smaller and with less vibrantly colored skin shining in the fire storm. And they were obviously the fighters, not the thinkers. Large swords and maces swung in the air before they even came close.
Satan’s fountain of fire that he blew out of his mouth provided one benefit—we could see our surroundings. When I’d been in the void of blackness, I’d imagined an immeasurable cell that sometimes felt as small as a cardboard box and other times as boundless as the cosmos. Once Satan arrived, I’d imagined a movie studio and his beautiful parlor was a set with the false window that looked out at a brick wall, and when he’d made the room disappear, I was left on the empty, black sound stage. But as the flames from his mouth spread over a high ceiling as though it were covered in gasoline, I saw that the space was what I imagined the Devil’s ballroom to look like.
The room was much longer than it was wide, with black marble covering every surface—the ceiling, pillars, walls, and a floor. A long, rectangular pool, also made of black marble, stretched down one side of the room, and a black statue of a Demon stood in each end of the empty pool. Unlit chandeliers made of black crystals hung from the ceiling, and when the flames reached their chains, they traveled downward, lighting them up.
Satan turned his head and swung it around as he shot two additional balls of fire from his mouth. One sailed to the far end of the pool while the other hit and entered the Demon statue nearest us. Streams of fire shot out of the statues’ mouths—a fountain of flames that flowed into the pool. And as though it had also been filled with gasoline, the pool lit up, too.
The real Demons carved their weapons through the fire, igniting them with flames that lapped and licked at the blades and spikes. Then they swarmed toward us.
Acting on instinct, I pushed my power at them to shove them away, but instead, I was the one who flew backwards and slammed into a marble pillar. Pain cracked through my head and spine, but I pushed past it to shoot a bolt of electricity at the closest Demon. The blue charge webbed over the creature’s body, but my power did nothing to stop it or even slow it. In fact, the Demon’s fat, leathery lips seemed to smile, reminding me of Satan’s reaction when I’d tried to fry him. I attempted to shoot Amadis power at it, instead, thinking it wouldn’t like that as much, but I had none. My time in Hell must have drained my power. As the Demons flew across the room toward us, my hand reached for my dagger, but I couldn’t find it.
Satan chuckled. “Your physical weapons were left behind with your physical selves.”
Panic threw my heart into overdrive. How could we fight them when we had nothing to fight with? How could we possibly survive this? Tristan dove for me and lifted me to my feet. Then he grabbed each side of my face, looking straight into my eyes.
“You must remember the pain isn’t real,” he said.
“But I feel it,” I ground out against his tight hold on me.
“It’s not real! Your body’s not here. It’s not in real danger. Just remember that. It’s all in your head.”
“And your soul,” Satan offered.
My eyes drifted over to him, and Tristan gave my head a small shake. “Don’t listen to him! Listen to me. Focus on what you want. You don’t want to be here, right?”
“Not if it means you’re here, too.”
His eyes sparked for a moment—he didn’t like that answer, but he ignored it. “We don’t belong here. He admitted it. So it’s all up to you and me. He’ll do everything to deceive us into staying, but in truth, it’s our choice. Don’t forget that, ma lykita. We will get out.”
I nodded as best as I could against his grip. “How?”
>
“We run until we find our way.” He slammed his mouth against mine, but only for a moment.
Then he dropped his hands from my face, grabbed my wrist, and ran. Unprepared, I stumbled after him at first, and he tugged me back to my feet. Once I gained my footing, we sprinted for a doorway at the far end of the room, the Demons chasing after us. Pain seared across my back as a sword found its target, but the burn felt like a freezer burn with thousands of icy needles piercing into my skin. My body arched against the pain as Tristan continued pulling me along. The doorway also filled with flames when we approached it, and without a glance behind us, we charged right through. More ice-cold pricked over my flesh and seeped into my bones creating the kind of ache that made me think I’d never be warm again.
“Hellfire,” Tristan groaned as we entered a black corridor. The Hellfire provided barely enough light to see that the hall went to both our right and left, but darkness swallowed it up only a few feet away. “This way.”
Tristan turned us right, although I knew from his mind that he didn’t really know which way to go. The marble floor was slick, and when I crashed to my hands and knees, I realized it wasn’t marble after all, but ice. Our feet slipped and slid as we tried to outrun the Demons, but they continued chasing after us, their weapons providing enough light for us to see a few feet ahead at a time. My broken and straggly wings were completely useless, unable to lift me in flight, which could have come in handy against the Demons.
An onyx wall suddenly appeared in front of us, and Tristan made a sharp right, pulling me with him. We ran twenty or thirty steps before another wall appeared, and this time we turned left, trying to avoid circling back to where we’d started. But it quickly became apparent that we scrambled like rats through a maze, trapped in the lower levels of Hell. The Demons backed off, throwing us into darkness again.